


Perks of Being a Winchester

by thefaultinourwinchesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Badass Reader, Explicit Language, F/M, Middle-Child!Reader, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Sibling Love, sass overload
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-08-07 19:52:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7727641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefaultinourwinchesters/pseuds/thefaultinourwinchesters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With two over-protective brothers, life as a hunter can certainly be difficult. When both of your brothers are Winchesters, it can be almost unbearable at times. Thankfully, being a Winchester does have it's perks-- Castiel being one of these advantages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Perk: They can be adorable. Disadvantage? They can also be pretty mean.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm super duper sorry if you get annoyed by these notes, but I swear I'll try to make it short and sweet. 
> 
> Okay, this is my first fanfiction, so please go easy on me. It's also my first time using the you/your form of writing, so if it sounds choppy, it's because I initially wrote it to be an original character. Please do comment and let me know if I should continue this work. I'll definitely make the chapters longer after I'm sure the story is good enough to pursue. 
> 
> By the way, this is just a teaser chapter. The next ones will be packed with lots of Winchester brotherly moments and adventure. I have a lot planned for this story! 
> 
> (Y/N= Your Name & Y/N/N= Your Nickname)

“Y/N, can I borrow your laptop? Sam’s being a jerk and he won’t let me use his,” Dean pouted from your doorway. 

Looking up with an unamused expression, you lifted an eyebrow at him and slowly shook your head.

“Why the hell not? I need it for a case!”

“Last time you needed my laptop for a ‘case’, I had ads for a porno movie popping up on my screen for a solid month. You also read my messages..”

“They were open in the tab!”

“Those are private things, Dean! What the fuck?”

“So can I borrow it, or not?”

Rolling your eyes, you nodded dismissively and turned back to your murder mystery novel that currently demanded immediate attention. “It’s on my desk charging. Take the charger with you and please put it on charge before it dies--and no porn, please.”

Dean grinned triumphantly and walked over to your cluttered desk, taking time to snatch the book from your hands and turn to a random page.

One that happened to have the _only_ steamy moment throughout the entire story.

“See? You’re not as innocent as you claim to be, you little hypocrite.”

He held his arm out to block you as you squirmed to reach your book, “Dean! That’s not funny, I’m on the most interesting chapter.”

Dean held it up higher and smirked as he lowered his voice and began reading, “He stripped me of my shirt and his _sinful_ mouth-”.

Jabbing him in the stomach with your elbow, you took the opportunity and wrenched the book from his grasp with a scowl.

With a smug smile, you watched him double over and grab his stomach. “Don’t fuck with me when I’m reading, Dean-o. You know that.”

“You’re a bitch,” he whimpered, straightening up and limping over to the desk to retrieve your laptop with a pout.

Turning back to the page you were reading, you stuck your tongue out at your older brother.

“I get it from you, ya big baby.”

He narrowed his eyes at you briefly before he smirked and stooped over on his way out to plaster a slobbery kiss on your forehead.

“Love ya, kiddo.”

“Gross, Dean! You got your spit all over me!"

A pillow sailed past his head as Dean practically skipped out of your room with a dopey grin on his face.

Brothers can really be a pain in the ass.

Especially if they’re Winchesters.

\--------------------------------------------------------- 

An hour later, you finally set your book down beside you and rubbed your gritty eyes with balled-up fists. Realizing how late it really was, you stood up and stumbled over to your dresser. Pulling out a pair of pajamas, you shed your tight jeans and slipped into a pair of shorts and a tank top.

Opening the door as quietly as you possibly could, you crept down the hallway on your trek to the kitchen.

Noticing the sliver of light coming from the library, you nudged the door open with your foot and peeked in to see Sam slumped over a pile of books. His hair fanned out around his head and his large arms hung loosely by his side.

Sighing softly, you tiptoed into the library and gently shook his shoulder, “Sammy, you silly moose. C’mon, let’s get you to bed.” Sam jerked slightly in your loose grasp, a groan falling from his open mouth. Tugging on his long arm, you finally let out a small huff of frustration. He was simply too heavy for you to lift. Squatting down beside him, you rubbed his back and whispered to him as quietly as you possibly could. A punch to the face really didn’t feel too good, especially coming from a surprised Sam--you knew that from experience.

“Sam, I can’t lift you and you know that. Help me out a little, little bro. I just need you to stand up and help me get you to your room. It’s not that far, kiddo.” He lifted his head and looked at you with half-lidded eyes, nodding at your words as he stumbled to stand up.

Long nights hunched over books had done it’s number on your little brother. Permanent bags under his eyes, disheveled hair, and a five-o’clock shadow was sufficient proof of that. Leading him out into the hallway, you tried to go as slow as you could to prevent Sam from falling over. Getting to his room, you opened the door and let him stumble over to his bed.

Once he was mostly in his bed, you unfolded his blanket and threw it over him, taking a moment to ruffle his hair. On the way out, you heard him mumble something and looked over your shoulder, “What, Sammy?”

“Night, Y/N/N. Love ya.”

With a faint smile on your face, you turned the light off and whispered back to him, “Goodnight, kiddo. I love you, too.”


	2. Perk? They let you be independent. Disadvantage? It's easier for you to get kidnapped by psychotic werewolves.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're a part of the Winchester family--the middle child, actually. What happens on a case that involves psychotic and mentally unstable werewolves? A lot of Winchester fun, that's what. 
> 
> Read on~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me so long to write this, but I'm pretty pleased with this effort. Thank you all for commenting and encouraging me to write more of this. Here you guys go, it's pretty long, just as I promised!

Now

“I’ve always liked being a hero, but not when I’ve been locked in a dark room for ten hours,” you mumbled, letting your head slump back against the wall. Letting out a sigh, you looked around the dark room, trying to make your eyes focus on anything that could help you escape. Your head was pounding and blood had already dried on your clothes, your clouded memory blocked any recollection of whose blood it was. You pulled against the rope binding your wrists together, gritting your teeth at the sores it had rubbed into your skin.

“Damn it, Dean and Sam. Where in the hell are you two?”

\---------------------------  
One Day Before

You were sitting at the kitchen table with a newspaper in one hand and a coffee mug in the other as Dean stumbled into the room and greeted you with a grunt. You looked up at him with an eyebrow raised, “Good morning, sunshine.” 

Knowing that trying to receive a response from Dean this early in the morning was too ambitious, you turned your attention back to the newspaper, setting it down on the tabletop to highlight the article that had already caught your attention. 

Once Dean had settled down in front of you with a cup of coffee in his hand, you slid the newspaper to him and pointed to the highlighted section, “I’m pretty sure it’s our kind of deal. Girls have been going missing from this bar called...Rager? Anyways, they disappear only to be found with their hearts ripped out in the the next day behind said bar. Cops keep investigating the owner because of the coincidence, but no evidence has popped up yet.” 

“Werewolves?” 

“It’s what I think. Seems like their kind of behavior,” you replied with a nod. 

Dean blinked at the paper with a groggy expression and nodded, “We’ll show Sam once he gets up.” 

You chuckled as you stood up to rinse your empty cup out in the sink, “Or we tell him when he gets back from his run. You forget that Sam likes his early morning jogs.”

Dean grunted in response, lifting his cup to gulp down some more of his coffee. 

“Could you at least try to be a little more optimistic, you grumpy ray of sunshine?”

Dean opened his mouth to shoot off a sarcastic comment, but was interrupted by Sam opening the bunker’s door. As your younger brother rounded the corner with a water bottle in hand and his headphones blaring music, you threw the newspaper to him, “Check that out. Seem like our kind of job?”

Taking a swig from his water bottle, Sam glanced at the highlighted section of the paper and nodded after reading it. “Werewolves?”

“It’s what I had in mind,” you replied with a nod. Walking over to Dean’s chair, you stood behind him and ruffled his hair with a small giggle until he swatted your hands away.

Sam dropped the paper on the table and grinned, “Who’s ready to hit up Dallas, Texas?”

\----------

“So what’s the plan, cowboy?” 

“We’re going to talk to the owner of the bar who keeps finding the girls. It’s kind of strange that it’s only happening behind his bar. Then I’m going to get you to hit up the morgue to check out some of the bodies while we go looking around to see if we can find anything the cops might have missed,” Dean replied, his eyes glued to the road. 

“Alright, let me just get changed really quick and I’ll meet you out here in 10 minutes, tops.” 

You grabbed your bag from the trunk and unlocked the motel door before making a beeline towards the bathroom. The benefit of being the only Winchester girl, your brothers always made sure you had your privacy. 

Stripping down, you began humming a song you’d heard on Sam’s playlist and began the painful process of looking as official as you could. Pulling on a tight skirt, you completely missed the flutter of wings until you looked up in the mirror to see a flustered angel covering his eyes. 

“What the hell, Cas?” You screeched and reached for something to cover your bra-clad chest. 

“I’m sorry, Dean told me to meet you here and I miscalculated. Let me just, uh, go now.” 

You waited until your best friend left before moving the shirt you had picked up for cover. “Damn it, Cas,” you mumbled before quickly pulling the shirt on over your head. After another five minutes of untangling your unruly hair, you pulled on the heels you dreaded. 

You strided outside to meet your brothers, pulling your skirt down from where it had risen up your long legs. “I’m ready,” you grinned, patting your brothers on the back. 

Dean looked up from his phone with a small frown, “I told Cas to meet us here, but he still hasn’t shown up.”

Your face flushed red with the memory of a flustered Castiel standing in the bathroom, covering his eyes to shield you from his vision, “Yeah. Who knows? You know how Cas is.”

“Yeah, he’ll probably show up on the way over there,” Sam added, lifting his bag out of the trunk. Dean nodded with a dubious expression before following Sam inside to change. 

You opened the door to the car and sat in the passenger seat to wait on your brothers to change before pulling your phone out of your bra to scroll through your messages.

“I didn’t realize women keep their phones inside their shirts,” a gruff voice mused from the backseat. You whipped around in the seat to glare at Castiel, “What is it with you popping out of nowhere all the time? Give some warning, please!”

Castiel tilted his head with a confused expression, “I came to apologize about earlier. I didn’t mean to startle you, much less intrude on your privacy.” 

Your expression softened and you looked away before answering him, “It’s okay, I forgive you. Just try not to do it as often?” 

He nodded and looked up as your brothers emerged from the motel room fidgeting with their rental suits. Dean held up his phone and pointed to it with an annoyed expression when he noticed Castiel sitting in the backseat, “Why didn’t you answer your phone?” 

“I was busy.”

Dean rolled his eyes and went around to the driver’s seat as you clambered into the backseat next to Castiel. You felt a tugging on your skirt and you looked back at Sam with a confused expression. 

“Your skirt is too short,” he mouthed, pulling on the fabric once more to emphasize his point. 

You rolled your eyes and nodded, fixing your skirt as soon as you had made it across the seat. The only reason you wore the damn thing is because male police officers had a lot more respect for a woman dressed like you were than they did for a girl dressed in a flannel and jeans. 

“What are we dealing with?” Castiel asked, looking at Dean through the rearview mirror. 

“Werewolves, most likely. It’s probably a pack working together,” Dean answered, changing the song on the disc you had burned for him to play in the car. 

Castiel nodded slowly and looked out the window as you leaned back and covered your eyes with your arm. Sam had began to re-watch the tapes he pulled from a traffic camera right in front of the alley as Dean tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and bopped his head along to the beat of the song. 

“Hey, Y/N, check this out,” Sam exclaimed rewinding the recording with the mouse. 

You uncovered your face and leaned forward, brushing your hair out of your face, “What exactly am I looking for?”

Sam played the clip again and pointed at the screen where a man with a baseball cap was looking over his shoulder as he lead a girl into the alley, “This guy pulls the girl into the alley, which is normal for some people, but get this,” he sped the video up and paused it where the same man walked out of the alley, without the girl. 

“He’s our guy,” you whispered, trying to focus on the blurry screen to get an idea of what the man looked like. 

“How long ago was that video?” Dean asked, glancing over at the screen with a concentrated look. 

Sam pulled the timestamp up and sighed, “Last night.”

Your blood boiled at the thought that this monster had taken an innocent life just hours before, “We’ve got to find this bastard tonight and take him out.”

Your brothers nodded in agreement just as Dean pulled over to the curb to let you out at the morgue, “See if you can I.D. the girl in the video. We might be able to ask some of the people who work at the bar if they saw who she left with, that could give us an idea of who to look for.”

You nodded and opened the door, patting their shoulders as a sign of goodbye. “I’ll call if I find anything new,” you promised as you closed the door and headed towards the building.

Opening the door, you were greeted by a strangely cheery woman, “Hey! Can I help you?”

You smiled and walked over to her with a confident stride, “I’m with the F.B.I. I came to check out the latest body.”

Her smile faded for a moment before she regained her cheer, “Of course. I’ll let Larry know, he’ll take you back there.” 

You nodded with a reassuring smile as she turned away and picked up the phone from the receiver, “Larry? The F.B.I. agent is here to see Lizzy’s body. Okay, I’ll tell her. Thanks, bud.”

She put the phone down and looked up with an apologetic expression, “He’ll be a few minutes, he’s stuck in a meeting with the sheriff.” 

You nodded and lifted your hand, “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, I can wait.” You turned away before stopping and turning back around, “You knew the victim?”

Her face fell and she looked away with an uncertain expression, “Lizzie was my niece. She was a little fireball, just like her mom. Sure, she was a wild kid growing up but she didn’t deserve this.”

She sniffed and let out a shaky sigh as she looked back up at you, “I just hope you guys find this monster and put him behind bars.” 

You gave her a half smile before nodding, “I promise you, I will not stop until I find this man and make sure he gets what he deserves. What’s your name, again?” 

“Callie, Callie Knox, and you are?”

“Agent Peters. Could you tell me more about your niece, Lizzie?”

Callie nodded and wiped away a stray tear, “Of course, Agent. She had just turned 21 about a week or so ago. We threw this small party for her at the local bar, Rager.” 

You pulled out a notepad and paused her, “This is the bar she was found behind?”

She nodded again, “Everyone in this town frequents that bar. It’s owned by the town’s favorite grump, Quincy Rogers. She wanted to have fun on her 21st birthday and I couldn’t tell her no, she deserved it. Lizzie had just finished college with a degree in Marketing. She had this big dream of going to New York and making it big.” 

“Did Lizzie ever mention a guy she had met? Maybe went on dates with?” 

Callie shook her head, “No, Lizzie never mentioned it to me if she had. I took care of her ever since her mom died in a car accident about 12 years ago. She told me everything, at least I think she did.”

You opened your mouth to speak when a heavyset, balding man opened the door leading towards the morgue, “Are you with the F.B.I.?”

Standing up, you walked over to him with a smile and reached out to shake his hand, “Yes. Agent Peters, I take it you are Larry?”

He ignored your extended hand and nodded, turning away to lead you into the room. Walking over to a drawer and opening it, he pulled out a box of gloves and offered it to you, “Put these on. Just a warning, this isn’t like on T.V., honey.”

Your eyes narrowed at him as you took the box from his hands, “I’ve seen a lot of graphic things, Sir. Don’t worry about me, I’ve got a strong stomach.”

He scoffed and lead you into the back room where the sheet-covered body was stretched out on the table. You reached for the top of the sheet and slowly uncovered the body. 

At first glance, you noticed that you both shared many traits before you began analyzing her body. Her face was perfectly untouched, only slightly disfigured from the rigor mortis setting in. The damage began from her neck down, her neck showing prominent bruising in the shape of fingers. 

“She was choked first,” you murmured as you assessed her injuries. This killer might have had a conscience. He killed her by asphyxiation before he ripped her heart out. Interesting.

The gaping hole in her chest was unsettling, “Any idea where her heart is?”

Larry shook his head, “The sicko must have taken it as a souvenir.”

You nodded as if in agreement before you covered her back up and pulled your gloves off, “That’s all I need, Sir. Thank you for your time.”

He grunted in response as he shut the lights off, walking out behind you. You let yourself out, waving goodbye at Callie with a sympathetic smile. 

Standing outside, you pulled out your phone and dialled Sam’s number. 

“Hey, did you find anything?”

He let out a frustrated sigh, “Not much. These idiots messed up the crime scene and it’s hard to see much with all these bystanders in the way. Did you have any luck?”

You glanced back at the building, seeing Callie standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. “Well, her aunt works here at the morgue and I got a name, Lizzie Knox. I can meet you guys at the bar in just a minute, I’m going to go check on her aunt.”

Sam murmured his agreement and you hung up the phone, turning back to talk to Callie again. She opened the door as you approached her, “Sorry, it’s just that you remind me so much of Lizzie. It’s almost like you two could pass as siblings.”

You smiled at the woman, reaching out to touch her arm. “It’s okay, what time do you get off? Maybe we could go get some coffee and you can tell me more about Lizzie?” 

Callie glanced at her watch and her eyes lit up, “I get off in about 10 minutes, if you could wait, I could finish up my work early and we can go to my house and I can make some coffee. I have a lot of pictures that I could show you, too!”

“That sounds great! I’ll wait out here for you,” you agreed, stepping back to let her go back inside. 

Ten minutes later, you two were walking alongside each other towards a small brick house. Giggling, you reached for your phone to see a message from Dean. Ignoring the message, you turned your attention back to Callie who was now imitating Larry with a spot-on expression. 

“I don’t think I’ve laughed this hard since I was in high school,” you laughed, holding your stomach. 

“Really? Why so long ago?”

“I grew up with two brothers and they’re funny, but it’s nothing compared to having a girl to laugh along with. I had friends in college but they were kind of boring,” you admitted with a dopey grin. 

Callie unlocked the door with a short laugh, “Well, if you think that was funny, just wait until you hear some of my favorite stories about him.”

Your laugh was cut short by the sight of her livingroom which had been completely trashed. Callie let out a small shriek of surprise, rushing in to assess the damage. You reached for her, pulling her behind you as you reached to pull your gun out of the waistband of your skirt. 

Taking the safety off, you motioned for her to remain silent and pointed upwards where you had just heard a noise. She covered her mouth and nodded as you walked forward in a tense stance. Rounding the corner, you were surprised by a tall figure in black who reached up to grab you. 

You instinctively pushed the person back, levelling your gun to their chest when you felt a sudden burst of pain as your vision went black and you felt yourself falling towards the ground with a small groan. 

\-------------------------------------------------------

Present

Your head throbbed where you had gotten hit with a blunt object, “Damn it, it was a trap. Where in the hell is Callie?” Images of the werewolves killing your new friend flashed through your mind and you shook your head to shake the images away. 

“No, she would have ran away. She had a chance,” you reassured yourself. 

Your fingers fumbled to find anything that could help you get out of your restraints. You struggled for a minute until your fingertips brushed against cool metal, your face scrunched up in concentration as you tried to figure out what it was. A relieved smile rushed to your face when you finally recognized the shape of a screw. 

Positioning the rope against the rope, you began moving your wrists to saw the thick rope away. A sliver of light coming from the corner caught your eye and you tried to focus on it as it slowly widened to reveal a black-clad figure standing in the doorway. You slowed the sawing motion as they stood there watching you for a solid minute before you sneered at them. 

“You know pictures last longer, asshole.”

They tilted their head at you and reached up to flip on a light switch. The bright light that flooded the room made you flinch and drop your head to shield your eyes. 

“Pictures never catch the true beauty,” their deep voice finally responded as they sauntered into the room and took a seat on a chair that was situated in the middle of the room. 

You slowly lifted your head with narrowed eyes, “What in the hell would you want with me?”

The man scoffed and let out a short laugh, “You don’t get it, do you? I picked you because you remind me so much of her. She was my first kill, and boy was it a rush. I want that feeling again.”

“You’re a monster,” you snarled, glaring at him. 

“Humans are the worst monsters.”

“Yeah, well humans don’t have the ability to rip someone’s heart out of their bodies, do they? You’re a werewolf, don’t act pretty with me,” you shot back sarcastically. 

The man leaned forward and propped his chin on his hand to watch you, “You’re an interesting little mouse, aren’t you? I’m guessing one of those ridiculous hunter girls?”

“Proudly.”

“Your pride will be the death of you, little one.”

“Bite me,” you quipped back as you raised an eyebrow at the man.

“We’ll get to that later, I’m trying to understand you.”

“Have fun with that, I don’t exactly share my feelings with someone who wants to kill me.”

“Stop trying to get out of that rope, if you want me to untie it, just ask.”

Your hand paused the motion and you looked up at him with an unamused expression, “What are you waiting for? Do you think I enjoy being tied up? This ain’t Fifty Shades of Grey, darling.”

The figure stood up with a chuckle and you leaned forward to let them cut the rope binding your hands together. Your eyes darted towards the open door, and he shook their head, “I’m the only thing keeping you from being torn to pieces. I wouldn’t mess with a hungry pack, sweetheart.” 

You leaned against the wall and let out a shaky sigh, “Why are you keeping me alive? If I remind you of Lizzie, you should just kill me now and get that rush.”

He turned away and laughed, “Lizzie wasn’t my first kill, she was around my 100th kill. I was referring to my dearest Penelope. I loved her to death, my darling lady. My love was poisonous and I ended up killing her. My grief was clouded by the guilt of how euphoric it felt to watch the life flood from the eyes I had stared into many times before. You look just like her, you know.” 

He turned back around to watch you, “It’s like I’ve found a reincarnation of my lovely Penelope.”

Your mind raced as you tried to predict the outcome of this situation. If I could keep him distracted long enough for Dean and Sam to get here, I might have a chance. 

You forced yourself to smile, reaching for him with a reassuring touch, “I could be another Penelope.”

He leaned into your touch, reaching to cup your face as he nodded slowly. Your fingers moved slowly to pull off the black mask. Your heart skipped a beat at the sheer beauty of the man in front of you. His bright blue eyes were framed by the longest eyelashes you’d ever seen before. 

Your mouth fell open slightly as your fingers moved to trace his jawline. His eyes fluttered closed as your eyes took in the sight of his full lips and your other hand reached up to run your fingers through his messy hair. 

“It’s like I have her back,” he whispered, leaning in to wrap his arms around your small frame. One of your arms fell to his shoulder as you kept your other hand in his hair, leaning in to nuzzle your face in the junction between his shoulder and his neck. 

He hummed contently as you relaxed in his embrace. The both of you stood together for a brief moment before you heard snarls and sudden gunshots ring out in the next room. 

He tensed up and turned towards the door with a dark expression, “They found you.”

Your hands reached for his face, cupping his cheeks, “Kiss me.”

He opened his mouth to protest but you reached up and closed the distance between you two to kiss him, holding him closer to you.

Pulling away, you saw his look of confusion before you lifted your hand and punched him in the nose. Reaching for his wrist, you twisted it behind his back until he groaned and fell to the ground. You got him to the ground before putting your foot on his shoulder blade to keep him down. 

“I thought you meant it,” he cried out as he writhed in pain.

“I lie for a living, darling. Don’t take it personal. It’s how ridiculous hunters survive.”

“There’s no possible way you can pretend to love someone that much,” he whimpered.

“You’re right, I just pretended you were someone I do love,” you replied, pulling his arm further back to elicit another cry of pain. 

You called out for your brothers as you looked down at the sobbing man with a blank expression. 

Dean appeared in the doorway with his gun lifted, before his expression softened to see your bruised face and bloodied shirt. 

You gave him a soft smile of forgiveness and reached for the gun, “I’ve got this, Dean-o.”

He scoffed and turned the gun to hand it to you, turning away to go find Sam.

You pointed the gun at the man’s head and gave a wry smile, “It’s really too bad I’ve got to kill you. You were a really good kisser.”

Your finger pulled the trigger and you dropped his limp hand and wiped blood off your face. You turned away and walked out of the room to find your brothers. 

They were crouched in front of a small body, lifting the wrist to search for a pulse. Your heart skipped a beat and you felt your stomach sink when you recognized the familiar floral print shirt that Callie was wearing. You felt hot tears burning your eyes as you turned away and covered your face. Guilt flooded your mind, making you feel like the worst person.

This is what you get for thinking you could have friends.

Sam heard your sniffle and stood up to pull you into a tight embrace, kissing the top of your head. “Are you okay?”

You let out a shaky sigh and nodded with a smile, “The job is done. Let’s just get home.”

“What happened here?”

You looked up with a startled expression to see a confused Castiel standing in the middle of the room, taking all of the bodies in. 

“Here’s my guess, the brunette hottie in the next room was their leader. He killed all of the girls who looked like one of his ex-lovers. That would explain why he killed Lizzie and probably would have killed me if you two goofballs hadn’t showed up and I hadn’t distracted him. Callie there kept saying I reminded her of her niece.”

“How did you distract him?”

“I kissed him,” you admitted with a guilty expression, looking away.

“You did what,” Dean growled, glaring at you with a disappointed look. 

“I did what I had to do, Dean. He probably would have killed me otherwise,” you retorted with a defensive tone. 

He opened his mouth to respond, but Sam held up his hand to silence him, “All that matters is that you’re okay.”

Castiel nodded with a sad smile and stepped towards you, offering his hand. You ignored his outstretched hand and reached up to give him a tight hug. 

“Let’s go home,” you added softly, pulling away from the awkward hug. 

Dean nodded, “But first, we gotta hit up that diner with the big sign out front that claims it has the best pie around here. I think I need to test that claim out.”

“Seriously, Dean?”


End file.
